Tom's Girl
by KTtheLuvAddict
Summary: Ginny has lived the past five years in fear of what she's become. She's decided to give up. Even if that means hurting Harry and condeming herself to an eternity with Tom. Oneshot.


I was feeling a bit bored the other day so i started to write. I knew i wanted to do a really short Harry Potter Fanfiction. I just didnt know what I wanted it to be about. Then I realised that my fovorite HP non-cannon couple has always been Ginny and Tom. So yeah, heres what you get.

Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle belong to the amazing JK Rowling.

She wanted to feel something, anything, but all she felt was the cold chill of death and the hopeless emptiness that came with it. The way his eyes raked over her in a condescending leer used to make her squirm with pleasure. Like the way a child feels when praised for doing something right. She hadn't recognized his disgust then. Only that he was actually looking at her. She had wanted so badly for Harry to look that way at her. But he never did. Why should he? He was brilliant and heroic and brave. She was filthy and tainted in ways that no person should ever be. She deserved death, deserved it more than anyone else on that battlefield. She had played his puppet and hadn't stopped till everyone she knew was hurt. She hadn't even stopped when Fred was lying on the cold floor, a ghostly smile painted on his blood flecked lips. She hadn't stopped when Harry had died, even if that hurt her more than anyone else's death had. But Harry hadn't really died. He had only been playing dead as to trap You-Know-Who. It had worked of course, as she knew it would. They had defeated him and sent him back to the hell from which he came. The world was free now. Free of blood and dirt and left only with sunshine and happiness. A happiness in which she was never meant to share. She didn't belong in this new world.

After Harry had defeated Voldemort he had run to Ginny's side, took her in his arms and placed the most heart wrenching kiss on her lips that anyone had ever seen. And he had done it in front of everyone. She had felt tears of guilt then. She didn't deserve this boy who had just so incredibly become a man. She didn't deserve her family or her friends. So she had run. She ran to the edge of the forest. She had thrown herself into the dirt and begged any living creature of the forest to come out and claim her life then and there. She had screamed and kicked and thrashed. Until she had a felt a cool hand press against her mouth. Her back was to this stranger, but as soon as his voice whispered in her ear, she knew who it was.

"Although, taking you blood-trader life would never make up for my wife's…you did ask ever so kindly." Said Rodulphus Lestrange. He had been hiding on the outskirts of the woods. Waiting for someone to stray away from the celebrating crowd inside and be unlucky enough to grant him his revenge. "Is it fair that your mother killed my wife so I shall kill her daughter?" Ginny had said nothing. She only wished he would get on with it before harry decided to come check on her. "I think it is…" he laughed. She felt his wand tip press against her forehead, heard him whisper those fatal words like a caress. Then there was nothing but blackness.

She was lying on her back. Staring up at a high stone ceiling that was so dark, one might mistake it for the night sky. She almost mistook it for the great hall. But of course she wasn't in the great hall. She was dead. She heard a quiet breathing to her left and imidiatly knew who it was. Of course he was there. He always was. Even after harry took the most powerful part of him away, he lived on. He always would. Tom was sitting close by, leaning his back casually against a stone pillar. She rolled over to her stomach and pushed herself to her knees.

"Tom?" she asked quietly. He smiled his most disgustingly perfect smile. It made her heart leap.

"I've been waiting for you Ginny." He said quietly, his voice like cool water. He got to his feet with a grace that no man should ever posses. His shoes made no sound on the cold wet stone floor. Reaching a hand down to help her to her feet, he looked a bit like an angel. She declined his help and, groaning, pulled herself up. Her head swam.

"I died…" she said, realization washing over her like a wave. He nodded.

"Like you wanted." There was amusement in his voice. "are you surprised that this is where your soul found rest?" his question surprised her. He was under the impression that she didn't think she would end up back at his side. She shook her head and he only looked at her more curiously.

"I always knew that when I died I would find my way back to you. I mean, I never actually lost you in the first place, did I?" she hoped there was a bit of malice in her voice to wipe away his amused smirk. Unfortunately he seemed even more pleased that she was expecting this.

"and you missed me so much that you decided to speed up your dying process by allowing one of my dimwitted followers kill you?" his voice had the most gleeful edge to it she had ever heard. It frightened her.

"I don't deserve the clean world that Harry is going to create. I deserve this." She gestured around the chamber. "I deserve you." His smirk became more pronounced.

"I never thought I would hear such self loathing come from the mouth of a Gryffindor. It's quite refreshing." He relished. "But, Ginevra, do enlighten me….why now? Please don't tell me that you just realized that you wanted this. You could have done away with yourself long ago. You've always known what and who you were." His gleeful tone was slipping away with his excitement at her arrival. It was being replaced by his signature sarcastic and cold one.

"I didn't want Harry to think that I could just marry him and live happily ever after. It wouldn't have been fair to break it off and I didn't want to live in a world where my family is happy but still hurting form a loss that I caused." At this Tom's eyes narrowed.

"Even had you wanted to be with Potter, it would have been impossible. You are mine."Ginny flinched a little. "And as for your brother, well, we both know that was as much of anybody's fault as it was yours. Not that I'm saying you're not a disgusting little trader…" His voice was cold. Talk of Harry seemed to have upset him. Ginny smiled and reached for him, surprised when she touched his hand and felt how cool his fingers were. She had gone from wanting his touch and approval more than anything, to being disgusted at the thought of it, to now accepting it as it was. He was hers and she his. Nothing could have changed that. No matter how much she loved Harry and no matter how dark and frightening Tom was. She had always belonged to him. Since she was eleven years old and had opened the most vulnerable parts of herself to him. He had taken hold of her and not let go. He would never let go. So she had given up. She had allowed him to use her as a sort of window to the Orders workings. After Hermione had advised harry to close himself, Ginny had been so relieved by Harry's refusal to be used that she had allowed herself to let Tom back in. When Tom threatened Ron and Hermione, she had allowed him to see thorough her. When Tom had threatened Neville and Luna, she had allowed him to use her as a puppet once more. All the while telling herself that it was all for their protection. But deep down she had come to the realization that that's what she was. Tom's girl. Tom's only friend. The one person that loved Tom Riddle in this world. And now they could be together.

Tom curled his fingers around hers and she heard him sigh. "It's been far too long, Ginny." He said. He lifted her hand and pressed it to the side of his face. His skin was free of blemishes and scars, completely smooth and as cold as ice. She leaned towards him shyly. He smiled and she felt his breath coast over her face. She felt like she was eleven again. And Tom was telling her a story with his eyes. But this time the story he told was their own. She saw his eyes flutter close and she closed her own. His mouth pressed against hers and she felt completely whole again. It wasn't a warm or comforting feeling. But it was who she was.


End file.
